An End to Innocence
by Ikonopeiston
Summary: This is a sequel to Interim Report and begins Nooj's second year as a cadet. He is now fifteen years old. Everything must have a beginning. This is the final chapter.
1. Chapter 1

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A/N: This is a sequel to _Interim Report_, which is itself the second in a series exploring those experiences of Nooj in his early days which went to making him the sort of man he turned out to be.

The character of Nooj and the setting of the story are the sole properties of Square/Enix. The other characters and the events sprang from my teeming brain.

**An End to Innocence**

I. The Experiment

Little had changed at the cadet training camp situated in the heart of the Calm Lands when Nooj returned early from furlough after his event filled first year. The same buildings stood, including the armory and the infirmary, both of which had become intimately familiar to him during the last few weeks of the previous term. Having few ties remaining at his birthplace and a demanding internal call summoning him back to the isolated post, he had spent only a few days on Kilika before returning to duty. No one thought this strange since he had seemed destined from his earliest years to be a Warrior.

However, he had not returned so precipitously to study the arts of war but to comfort and care for an infant fiend he had orphaned late in the past year. During a disastrous mission, he had killed the parents of a Queen Coeurl kit and now felt himself responsible for the well-being of the little beast.

Since he was largely alone at the encampment aside from the servants keeping watch over the equipment, he had no difficulty in finding the animal and taking charge of its tending. After spending several days curled up with it in its pen, he brought it into the barracks where he slept and shared his bed with the forlorn creature, feeding it from his own hands and accustoming it to his touch and scent. Before long, they had become inseparable, the boy and the kit, sharing much the same temperament and trusting one another to the exclusion of all others.

While little had changed outwardly, there had been a profound change in the attitude of the commanders of the camp. At the beginning of the break, when the students had left for their homes, the senior staff had convened a meeting. What to do with this troublesome prodigy they had on their hands? How best to get a leash on him so that he could be made as useful as he promised to be to the army? They were aware of the danger of breaking such tools in the effort to hone them. After much discussion and argument, it was decided to try an experiment. Since Nooj had proved himself possessed of a powerful will and had demonstrated the ability to govern himself, it was proposed he be permitted to do just that – until he proved himself incapable. In so far as it was commensurable with military discipline, routine regulations – those designed to mold the individual to the standard – would be relaxed or ignored for him and he would be assisted to find his own path, so long as he did not veer too far from the ideal or cause scandal.

His rank would be restored and he would be given as his second in command another cadet who was being groomed for advancement – a girl from the Bikanel camp wo bore the name Kaith. She was his counterpart in many ways so they should function well together. It was hoped her less saturnine attitude would temper his darkness.

Nooj, of course, was unaware of any of these concessions. He was not inclined toward prying into the affairs of others and did not notice that some of the rules which bound them were absent for him. Like the one on pets. When the superior officers began to trickle in and saw that the kit and Nooj were always together, they decided that the presence of the animal would be silently overlooked. Nooj had never even considered separating from his companion so was not surprised at the lack of efforts to part them. The members of his company relished the idea of a unique mascot and any protests from others at the base were efficiently squelched.

The boy was prepared for the rigors of his second year of training, having almost completely recovered from the injuries he had incurred in the year past. His shoulder, treated by magic, was healed. The cuts on his back had become narrow red threads of smooth tissue. Given more time, they would become even less noticeable, if never completely gone. He no longer paid them any attention except when he heard the sudden gasp from someone who had not seen them before when he changed his shirt in the dormitory. The marks on his buttocks were more prominent since they had been frequently reopened when he performed calisthenics during training exercises. Only his shower mates had seen those.

He also took little notice of the fact it had taken him less than half the time since he had returned from the brief furlough to regain the rank which had been stripped from him at the end of the first year. Without any fuss or ceremony, the patches had been returned to his shirts and the badges to his chest. None of the other cadets protested this rapid reparation since he was easily recognized as the best of the current crop of students, including even those in the year ahead of him. It was obvious he should be treated as the natural leader he was.

In another month, the second year cadets would be expected to decide which branch of the military they wished to enter so that their third and final year at the camps could be tailored toward that end. The most rapid rise in rank was to be found in the regular army, so that would be the choice of most of the students. Nooj was expected to select this service and shoot quickly to the very top. It was thought entirely possible he would be a commandant before he was twenty.

At one time, his immediate superiors would have agreed with that thought but a careful study of the causes leading to the death of the student under his command and his reaction to that death had convinced them his talents lay more in the areas of the elite corps – those like the Crusaders who worked more often alone or in small groups. It had not escaped them that their star pupil had little taste for the company of his fellow humans. The boy had, after all, killed his first man when he was only thirteen and death held no terror for him. He would be best trained in unconventional weapons and techniques and left to shape his own destiny. So it was decreed he be given individual tutoring in strategy and related topics and largely freed from communal missions.

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Nooj and Kaith strolled across the parade ground to the Armory, the largest building on the base and the center of most activities. They were still getting to know one another, having met for the first time the preceding day.

"So, I guess you'll be going into the regular army. I'll bet you're going to be the youngest Full Commandant ever." The girl mentioned, trying to strike the right tone between fawning and sincere admiration.

He glanced over at her, suspicious as always, "I don't know. Haven't made my mind up yet. I may go for the Crusaders." His voice, newly changed, had the slightly hoarse quality of disuse.

"Why them? You'll die a captain over there. They don't promote and they don't live long."

"I never expected to live long," he muttered almost too quietly to be understood. Then, more loudly, he continued, "I like the smaller teams and the stuff about unusual weapons and all. Anyway, I don't care. I don't want to be a Commandant. They have to hang around planning and don't get to go out and actually fight." He bent and tickled the ears of the half-grown coeurl walking beside him. The animal turned its head and slobbered over his hand.

"How did you tame that cat anyway?" The tall girl demanded. She was curious about her new captain who seemed immune to the ordinary restrictions of second-year cadets.

"Came back early from furlough and slept in the pen with it." Nooj responded, tugging at the loose fur around the neck of his pet. "It was scared and I held it while it slept."

"So, you're going to be a Crusader with a Queen Coeurl as your partner?" Kaith laughed and nudged her companion with her shoulder. "Man, nobody will ever forget you two. You planning to become a legend?"

The boy turned away slightly. "No. I just want to do what I want to do. Why did they assign you as my second? I never heard of you before and I don't know if you're good enough."

With a fierce flurry, she grabbed his arm and spun him about to face her. "I'm good enough. You'll learn that pretty quick. I was in the camp in Bikanel when they told me they thought I should be sent here to train with the best. If you're the best, you better prove it. I bet I can take you anytime, anywhere with any weapon."

He raised an eyebrow and snorted what might have been a laugh. "We'll see. Right now, I'm supposed to check you out with the sword. Let's go in and get it done."

Stiffly, Kaith led the way into the armory, a maze of small exercise and massage rooms, storage areas for weapons and variously sized practice areas. The room they entered was very large and contained a number of unfamiliar items. While Nooj led his pet to one of the smaller stalls and closed it inside so it would not try to join in their practice, the girl stood in the center and looked around curiously.

"What's that?" Kaith swallowed her umbrage long enough to ask, pointing at a waist-high device of slatted wood, curved on the upper side and looking rather like an over-sized lobster trap.

"You haven't met this yet? You probably will, with your attitude. It's the flogging horse. See -" He demonstrated. "You're stretched over the top with your wrists pulled tight and the master lays on the whip ... or the cat." He looked closely at her to see if she knew the story of his encounter with the horse his first year.

"No, I haven't seen one of these. Do they still use it? I thought they were supposed to go easier on us these days."

"Not likely, the latest blood stains on this horse are mine. I took forty-five lashes last year." There was just a hint of pride in his voice.

"You! I thought you were Mr. Perfect Cadet! What did you do to get that?"

Nooj turned away. She would get all the details out of someone but not him. He did not like to talk about that time; the guilt of his error was still too strong in him. He selected two swords from the rack against the wall.

"Epee or saber?" He asked, casting an eye over her slim form. "I think ... epee." He extended the haft of the light weapon.

"No. Saber. I like the feel of a stiffer blade." She reached for the hilt in this left hand.

"Very well. But I'm not going to hold back."

"Don't want you to."

For a time only the silken hiss of steel on steel and the shuffling of four feet disturbed the quiet of the large room and glittering motes in the beams of light which held the fencers in an illusionary amber cage. Finally, Nooj struck Kaith's blade up with his own and called a halt.

"You're not bad but you need to watch a few places." He had started on a detailed analysis of her technique when she interrupted him.

"If I'm making so many errors, why are you panting?"

He ignored her and continued his critique. When he had finished, he commented, "You should have taken notes. I'll test you again in a few days."

She curled her lip. "I can remember. Don't worry. ... Why don't you want me as your second in command?"

"I don't mind you as a person. I have to be sure of you as a warrior, be sure you're good enough. I made a mistake once." He turned aside to replace the swords they had used.

"So? Everybody makes mistakes. Some even make them more than once. It passes. You get over it."

"This one killed a girl." He faced her and looked into her wide grey eyes. "Do you think you could get over that?"

Kaith placed what she meant as a consoling hand on his arm. Quick to anger, she was equally swift in her compassion. "I didn't know. I'm new here. I'm sorry. Want to talk about it?"

Nooj shook his head but did not try to brush her hand away although he generally hated to be touched. He looked to one side without focusing while a long moment passed. "Let's get back for lunch. You'll be hungry before tonight."

Kaith looked at him from under her brows and made the sensible decision not to press him any further. She had already heard enough gossip around the camp to know he was something special, already a legend of sorts. She realized she had only to sit quietly and listen to the other students to learn whatever she needed to know about her cadet-captain.

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Kaith was unusually tall for a Spiran female. She had shot up during her fourteenth year and now, approaching fifteen, was as tall and gracefully slender as a white willow. All her life she had longed to become one of the celebrated Warrior Women who took their places by the sides of the great men of Spira and defended the populace from the depredations of Sin and the other fiends who made war on the world she loved. Now she felt she was on her way to achieving her goal. After a year's exile on the training island of Bikanel, she was finally here at the Calm Lands Station where the best were sent and she had been assigned to Company A, led by the most promising aspiring Warrior on the planet. What was more, she was not only assigned to his company but placed as his second in command. She still did not understand what had brought her so far so fast or to what she owed her good fortune. Meeting Nooj had been like being ushered into the presence of a deity, although she did her best to hide her awe and respect. Maybe she had overdone it? Had she been too brusque? Too edgy? It was not easy to decide exactly how to act in the presence of your hero.

She had stayed quietly in her corner when her barracks mates began to exchange gossip about the camp and its luminaries. As they discussed Nooj, Kaith kept her ears as sharp as she could and tried to memorize every word. She heard the legends of his first year in the camp, the description of his solitary walk across the sun-bleached grass of the quadrant, blood making scarlet patterns on his khaki shirt. The details of the taking of the coeurl kit were laid out and marveled over; equally admired was his refusal to be publicly punished. The conversation did not stop until the subject of their gossip walked into the room and announced that lights would be extinguished in ten minutes so they had all better get ready for bed.

Kaith had not fully realized she would be sleeping in the same room as the male cadets. She knew, of course, that the sexes trained together in the armies of Spira but she had thought sleeping quarters, like showers, would be segregated. That was how it was done on Bikanel. Yet all around her boys and girls were shrugging out of their uniforms and those who had not bathed before supper were making mad dashes for the shower rooms. Turning her face toward the wall, she pulled on her sleeping tunic and slid off her clothes under the protection of that ample garment. She did not dare look around at Nooj until the sudden intake of breath from the girl beside her made her spin her head. Nooj had just stripped off his shirt and, as he bent to tend to his boots, the narrow crossing scars on his back were clearly visible. If he heard the murmur from the newcomers, he gave no sign but continued with his undressing. Like the others, he used his tunic as a modesty shield as he wriggled out of the tight breeches and underpants. When he was ready for bed, he turned slowly and, casting a stern eye over his corps, gestured them to their cots and signaled the lights out, leaving those who had not quite finished their preparations to do so in the dark.

As she lifted her blanket to slip into her bed, Kaith discovered she was holding her breath and let it out with a prolonged sigh. She lay in the darkened barracks, surrounded by nearly a hundred of her contemporaries, with the image of Nooj's flogged back filling her mental vision and bringing unaccustomed thoughts into her head. She dreamed that night.

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Days passed, some exciting, most tedious. Kaith had her second practice session with Nooj and was commended for her improvement. The division of duty between the two was worked out and the leadership of the company was split in the appropriate manner. Since Nooj was assigned extra tutorials with the masters of strategy most days and was otherwise being pressed along an accelerated path to leadership, Kaith found herself doing more work than a second was usually called upon for. She had no complaints since the additional responsibility would prove to her advantage in the long run.

Every night when lights out neared, she tried to catch a glimpse of the scars on his back. They moved her in strange and profound ways. She did not know if she felt pity, horror or admiration of the brands which so clearly proved his metttle. She had heard the story often enough now to recite it herself and she tried to imagine if she would have been so strong and unbending in her own convictions. In her heart, she feared she would have failed the stoic standard her captain had set his corps.

Nooj had no conception of the turmoil his very existence was wreaking in the life of his assistant. He had tested her and, finding her satisfactory, had accepted her in her rank and used her accordingly. He heard the buzz every night when he bared his back and felt the eyes of his command tracing the marks with awed fascination. He did it deliberately. Some instinct told him it would bind his followers to him and enhance his already powerful reputation if he casually showed them the proof of his courage and strength. He bared his scarred back for the same reason he permitted the coeurl kit to share his bed most nights; it was the act of a man – one removed by experience and pain from the ranks of the children who had yet to feel the sharpness of adult punishment or to prove themselves by subjugating a feral beast. With his honorable scars and his snarling pet, Nooj made himself the only mature male in the room, the alpha.

He slept easily, more soundly, when the kit lay heavy against his chest, its purr filling his ears and canceling the noises made by the humans. His arm had become accustomed to curling around his pet and his cheek to pillowing on the still soft fur. The monitors who made the rounds of their sleeping charges often smiled at the sight of the tall youth cuddling his lethal companion like a child with a stuffed toy.

Nooj declined to name his pet, arguing he would someday return it to the wild and a name would be inappropriate. The truth, known only in the most personal protected area of his being, was that he would never willingly part with the animal and he had a private name for it he chose not to share with any other. In the depths of the night and in the quiet places he sought out for solitude, he would pull the animal to him and whisper,almost inaudibly, into its soft ear, "Nepetu". He had named it that because of the clean spicy fragrance of its fur.

Kaith thought if she was alert she might learn what Nooj called the kit. After all, she spent considerable time with the cadet-captain and his animal and he must address it by name sometime. So far, she had no luck; all communication between the two private and vaguely feral males seemed to be silent, subliminal.


	2. In the Armory

II -In the Armory

"Kaith, do you have my new schedule?" Nooj asked, holding out a sheaf of papers. "I am set up with a session every morning with Dvala. It'll take the whole morning so you'll have to do the calisthenics drills. OK?"

"Sure. No problem. I like doing the drills, keeps me in shape and lets me get a quick check on whoever's not keeping up." She had learned to keep a serious mien. Smiles did not impress her captain.

"Are you having any difficulties with the physical demands?" He looked her up and down, noting she followed his lead in dress, her uniform crisp and spotless. She was proving to be quite satisfactory as his second-in-command.

"No sir. I'm fit enough. Training on Bikanel was harder than here. At least, I found it so."

"That's interesting. I thought we had the toughest regimen of all the camps. I'll consult with the officers and see if we need to beef it up a notch or two." He raised his eyebrow, a gesture she had begun to understand was his way of signaling a joke. When she first came to the Calm Lands camp, she would have playfully punched him in the arm, but she had also learned he did not like to be touched so contented herself with a quick grin, hastily repressed.

"Can I pet the kit?" She changed the subject and leaned toward the animal at his side.

"Be careful. Let me hold him. His whiskers are just beginning to tuft and they're sensitive." Nooj knelt down and placed his hand flat against the chest of of the half-grown coeurl.

Kaith held out her fist, lightly closed in the prescribed manner for approaching strange cats. The coeurl stretched its neck and sniffed at the proffered skin, the still short whiskers twitching with curiosity. After a moment, the pink tongue emerged and tentatively licked the girl's knuckles. With a pause to assess the new taste, it looked into her face and, to the astonishment of both humans, reared up on its hind legs and placing its forepaws on the shoulder of the young woman, washed her face with enthusiasm. Nooj was taken aback. His pet had never shown such a reaction to anyone other than him. He watched as Kaith with a gurgle of delight, wrapped her arms around the coeurl and rubbed her head into the soft fur.

"Oh, he's such a sweetie," she chortled. "No wonder you don't want to lose him."

"I have every intention of releasing him as soon as he's old enough to survive without his parents. I killed them so I'm responsible for him, you know." There was an undeniable stiffness in the youth's voice which made Kaith aware she had crossed some undefined line.

Nooj looked at the tableau, his pet and his adjutant getting to know one another. In reaching to embrace the kit, Kaith had bent forward and the gaping neck of her starched shirt had exposed the curve of her breasts. He was involuntarily transfixed by the smooth tanned skin half shadowed by her collar.

He had never taken much notice of the females under his command. Of course, he had felt the effects of that drive which assures the continuation of the species but, having no time for and less patience with the softer emotions, he had set such feelings aside to be dealt with when they might prove useful. Such tender sentiments as he permitted himself, he reserved for the orphaned coeurl.

Now, he felt his face flush and an undeniable sensation in his loins at the sight of the curves fading into mystery inside the garment. He found himself wondering how it would feel to trace that inviting path with his fingers or how the half-discerned globe would weigh in the palm of his hand.

Kaith looked up, her attention drawn by his silence and, seeing the direction of his gaze, immediately understood. She had been looked at that way before. With a graceful twist, she disengaged from the cat which expressed its displeasure by nipping at her biceps.

"Thank you for letting me pet him. Why don't you give him a name?" She brushed back her hair and, standing, slung her book bag over her shoulder, preparing to head for her next class.

Nooj roused himself like one wakening from a dream state. He, also, stood and shook himself lightly. "That's all right. He seems to like you. ... What sense would it make to name him when I'm going to release him in a few weeks? When he's big enough to take care of himself."

Kaith held her tongue although in her mind a voice murmured, '_You'll never let him go_.' She was a wise one for all her tender years.

He touched her hesitantly on her shoulder, immediately jerking back his hand as though he had plunged it into a fire. "I'll see you later. Remember, you have the calisthenics in the morning."

"I won't forget." She made her way to the classroom building, feeling his eyes still on her.

Nooj was, indeed, watching. The shape of her hips in the snug breeches, the carriage of her head, the grace of her movements, all these things suddenly appeared meaningful in ways he had never expected.

That night, at lights-out, there were two in the barracks furtively eyeing one another. And two who dreamed.

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Nooj was not thinking about Kaith as he crossed the quadrangle the following morning. His mind was occupied with reviewing the theories which would make up the meat of his tutorial with Professor Dvala. It was only when he saw the square of cadets moving in rough unison that he recalled she was leading the exercises and, without conscious volition, altered his course to pass nearer.

Kaith was wearing the prescribed attire for the task assigned her. Like the other cadets sweating in the morning sun, she had on a khaki singlet and very brief shorts. The sleeveless upper garment left her shoulders bare and, with its deeply cut neck and armholes, permitted free movement of the body. Her hair was tied back with a matching bandeau.

Once again, Nooj felt the unfamiliar and unwelcome prickling of arousal. His studies has informed him of the cause and he had been quite sure his own internal controls could insulate him from the demands others his age found so insistent. He was not accustomed to being at the mercy of his physical drives.

Surreptitious observation in the communal shower had assured him he was in no way deficient to his class mates in his physical development. But where the other boys made loud comments and jokes about one another, he held aloof and no one dared try to include him in the grabs and reassuring insults. He had convinced himself he was above such juvenilia and was fully in control of his own body.

Thus, he was not prepared for his reaction to Kaith's sun-gilded shoulders and snug shorts. He had led other troops in similar exercises, male and female, wearing similar clothing without noticing anything unusual about any particular cadet. When he thought about it, he had assumed his fantasies the day before had been mere aberrations, brought on by the sight of her caressing the kit.

He was grateful for the unyielding close fit of his breeches which assisted in concealing responses he could only partly suppress, even with all the strength of his disciplined mind. Casually, he slung his portfolio around to shield what was rapidly becoming an embarrassment. He would have made a rapid exit from the field had it not been for his pet.

The coeurl kit, scenting its new friend, approached Kaith and twitched its partially tufted whisker up the length of her calf. The girl jumped in surprise and, upon identifying the source of the touch, bent down to rub the head of the animal, thus presenting Nooj with an even more provocative view. He felt his throat tighten and dared not speak. For the past few months, his treacherous voice had remained static in its newly found baritone niche. Now, he was certain if he tried to utter a word, it would come out soprano. So he stood there, stone-faced as a martyr before the tools of torture, clutching his folder of papers in a clumsy, sweating grip. He managed a nod of recognition when Kaith's eyes met his.

She stood at attention and saluted him. He did not dare free his right hand to return the gesture, being forced to defend himself against his own body. They remained in that pose for several minutes until realization of the problem dawned on Kaith. Laughter struggled with satisfaction in her eyes as well as on her lips until compassion won and she turned her gaze away and gestured toward the waiting company.

"Sir! They are doing well. I have no complaints about them to report. Would you like to watch them go through the routine? Sir?"

Nooj, who with a Herculean mental effort had regained his self control, finally returned the salute. "No. I saw with pleasure the excellence of the exercise. Carry on, soldier."

Kaith turned back to her job, with an incandescent inner glow. So that was the way it was to be. She had not surrendered her innocence to any of the importunate youths who had laid siege to her and now she was to reap the reward of her fastidiousness. If things worked out as she foresaw, her first lover would be the best Warrior of their generation. He was exactly what she deserved. It had not been a part of her career plans to seduce her captain, but he seemed eager to be seduced, so ... . She wondered how many lovers he had had and if he would scorn her inexperience. Suddenly she realized she was neglecting to call the cadence.

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After several days of brooding, during which both his performance and his concentration suffered, Nooj arrived at the conclusion something must be done. He had badly overestimated his ability to subdue his more animal instincts and his body was commanding far too much of his attention, threatening to embarrass him at almost any moment. He had read enough and observed the behavior of animals sufficiently to understand the basic mechanics of what was required and had the self-confidence to trust he could manage the purely physical side of the interaction. What he did not understand was how one got to the physical point in the first place. What became of clothes? Was the male supposed to lie down and invite the female to join him or was he supposed to make her comfortable first? And how was one expected to know which attentions were welcome and which were not? He realized he needed to spend some more time in the library before his plans progressed any further. It was like studying strategy. No matter how many diagrams one made or how many arrangements of one's forces were tried, it all depended on the actual conditions of engagement. He tried to remember which boys he had heard talking about their experiences and to devise a way to tap their brains without their noticing.

Then he remembered the scars on his back and buttocks. They were useful for impressing the younger cadets but how would Kaith react? Would she be repulsed by the sight? Maybe they could meet in the dark. Damn! What if she wasn't interested in him? He told himself sternly he was making plans before he was even sure she was available. Why did she keep flaunting her body at him if she did not want to ... . With a savage snarl, Nooj clutched the coeurl kit so tightly it struck out with back claws and teeth before settling down against his chest.

His attention diverted and his mind refocused by the sharp rebuke from his pet, Nooj abandoned his unproductive musings and resolved to approach Kaith the next day and test her reaction to his overtures. With that as his last conscious thought, he permitted himself to sleep. And dream.

In the meantime, across the wide room, Kaith lay staring wide-eyed into the darkness. She had tossed back her covers because thinking about her captain caused her body to flush with a disconcerting sensation of heat and excitement, a twitching in a particular area. Back in the Bikanel camp she had been friends with some of the older female cadets and had learned a great deal about relationships between the sexes just by staying quiet and listening. Now she wished she had been more interested and asked some questions. During her early schooling, she had been given the usual education in such matters but she had a feeling she could use some more detailed information. Nooj was almost certainly an old hand at assignations and she dreaded looking like a tyro when he made his move. And make it, he would; of that she was certain. He kept following her with his eyes and placing himself where they would meet in a seemingly casual fashion. She could tell from his breathing patterns and the way he moved his body that he desired her and she found her own thoughts straying more and more often to thinking what it would be like to give her virginity to him. She had no intention of denying him but she did wish she better knew just how to please a male. She remembered one caress she had heard the older girls talk about. Maybe that would convince him she was worth his time. Maybe he would like that. It should be easy enough to do. With worry still scraping at her mind with its sharp claws, she finally fell asleep.

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The day dawned warm with a light breeze moderating the intense sun. The sky was uncommonly blue with only scattered shreds of clouds marking a contrast. It was a relatively light day for the cadets at the Calm Lands camp. They had their usual morning classes and exercises then a half-day free to visit the recreational sites which naturally sprang up where energetic young people congregated. The senior staff took advantage of the absence of their charges to indulge in rest and relaxation of their own. Nooj knew from experience the camp would be nearly deserted by early afternoon. He set out to find Kaith and quickly succeeded for she was of a like mind.

"Kaith, did you have plans for this afternoon?"

"No. I don't have much interest in fun-fairs. Was there something you wanted?" She blushed hotly when she heard her own words.

Nooj felt the chords in his throat constrict and, by an act of sheer will, forced his voice down into a lower register than it wanted to use. "I thought it might be a good idea to do some more fencing. There are a few more techniques I think you might like to ..." He was losing control over his voice.

"That's a good idea. I wasn't satisfied with my footwork last time. I'll just go put on my exercise clothes and meet you at the armory in half an hour." She wanted time for a quick shower and some strategic applications of perfume.

He nodded and made haste for the men's bathing area, thinking much the same as Kaith – shower and a fresh-smelling talc. He was grateful it was the habit of his people to depilate the body just before puberty. That way he did not have to worry about stubble on his face, as did some of the others his age, or hairy armpits. He felt himself flush at the thought of other locations of body hair he had seen on his shower-mates and wondered wildly if females had hair in those places. He had not seen a naked girl since he left his crèche on Kilika.

Nooj was the first at the armory. He was glad of that because it enabled him to make his preparations without observation. He had remembered to bring along a sleeping bag to cushion the rough floor and now he had the privacy to spread it out in the small room he had chosen for their tryst. Some straw had been stored there and he had smoothed it over the wooden planks and laid the freshly aired unzipped bag on the rude bed thus fashioned. He cast his keen glance over the remainder of the room, finding it pleasantly dim and securely lockable. With a certain haste, he detached the young Coeurl from the quilted fabric where it sprawled and tucked it in nearby stall, supplying it with food and water. Then the sound of the main door opening caught his attention.

He recognized Kaith against the exterior light. She pushed the heavy door shut and, as he watched, placed the locking bar into position, then turned and, leaning against the panels, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In a moment he was at her side. They were dressed identically in khaki singlets and matching loose slacks. For a little time, they stood and just looked, uncertain of what to do.

With a delicacy of touch few would have believed him capable of, Nooj tipped the face of the girl up to his own and with infinite tenderness pressed his lips against hers. He was only mildly surprised to feel her mouth open and her tongue dart out to touch his. Then they were lost in a paroxysm of passion which left them breathless and dazed. When he lifted his head from his first real kiss and stepped back, it was only to give his hands room to pull off her shirt and toss it aside. She was there, naked to the waist, the buds of her breasts proudly erect and swollen. He was transfixed by the beauty of her body; he had never seen anything so glorious before and for a while he could not move.

He bent and took her right nipple gently in his lips, sucking with great care so as not to hurt her. She pressed his head against her and moaned, her body trembling and moisture drenching her pants. She could feel something hard and urgent pressing against her hip.

"Wait!" she gasped, placing her palms against his chest.

"I'm sorry. I'll stop."

"No. I don't want you to stop. I just need to catch my breath." She smiled up at him and, grasping his own singlet, pulled it over his head. "I want to see you." She arched her back and drew her erect nipples across his smooth torso.

The sensation of skin against skin was almost more than he could bear. He caught her hands in his and held them prisoners between them. "Come; I know a better place." He drew her toward the small room he had prepared, leaving the discarded garments on the floor.

Inside the room, he gently loosed the drawstring of her slacks and let them pool at her feet. She had not bothered with underpants and stood bare before him like a slave girl at auction. The light fuzz below the curve of her belly seemed as soft as the pelt of the coeurl kit to his questing fingers. So females did have body hair! He felt her hands stretch the elastic of his waistband and push his trousers down. He stepped out of them, at the same time kicking off his moccasins. He stood motionless, not at all sure what he should do next. His body testified to his readiness for something to happen.

Kaith looked down at him in awe. Was this the way all men were? Was it possible this rigid, vein-thick rod would fit into the narrow passages of her body and not destroy her? Nooj drew her down slowly to the quilted bedding he had prepared. To the anxious gaze of the girl, he seemed to be waiting for something. Was this the point at which she was supposed to do the thing the older cadets at Bikanel had described?

With a murmur which ended on a rising questioning note, she slid her head down the length of his body and tentatively took him into her mouth. He tasted of the sun and good soap, not strange at all. What was unexpected was his response to her act. He gasped and trembled, moaning far back in his throat, clutching her shoulders with an almost painful grip.

He had not expected this. None of the books he had memorized had told him this was what was meant by the word 'foreplay'. Well, she must know; she seemed so certain. Obviously, she had experience in these matters.

Sensations build in him until he could hold back no longer and, with a muffled cry, exploded, filling her mouth with a salty fluid. She swallowed and held him as he softened. Looking up toward his face, she could see he was lying motionless with his eyes closed. For a terrifying moment she was sure she had killed him and scrambled on the coverlet until she could reach his lips and feel the breath still whispering through them. Stirring, he tenderly pulled her to him and kissed her deeply.

"I can taste myself," he said.

"You taste good," she responded, smiling uncertainly.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

"Did I do it right?" she was finally cornered in her inexperience.

"It was wonderful," he lazily bent to her breast, taking the nipple in his teeth and nipping. He had never dreamed any caress could be so satisfying.

Kaith, sighing in both relief and excitement, arched her back and presented her body for his attentions. So that was what all the noise was about! Men liked to have that done to them. She could to that; she had just proved it.

Nooj slipped his hand between her thighs and cupped the dewy softness he found there. Remembering his anatomy books, he began to search for the little button of flesh the tomes has assured him held the key to pleasing a woman. An urgent movement toward his questing fingers and an intake of breath indicated he had found his goal. As the instructions he had read instructed, he gingerly manipulated the nubbin adapting his actions to her increasing little cries. Then she pressed hard against his hand and clenched her legs around his wrist and he felt a subliminal throbbing in her body before she relaxed with a soft wail.

Thoroughly satisfied with themselves, they embraced, matching their bodies full length. He looked down into her beaming face and smiled. So this was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life. There were so many women and so many beds. He remembered something about penetration and so forth but it was hazy at the moment and could wait. Sufficient to the moment was the pleasure therein. With a respectful but confident touch, he stroked the smoothly curving form lying at his side.

Kaith turned to him. She felt wonderfully loose and happy. Was this all he wanted from her? If so, she was content but she had intended to lose her maidenhood to him and so far she was still intact. Did the other thing have to wait until later? Life was so complicated and mysterious. She grinned, "Turn over. I want to see your back."

Without protest, he obeyed and shortly felt her fingers tracing the mesh of scars which crossed his skin. As she gently explored the wider ones on his buttocks, she murmured, "That must have hurt really awful."

"Not so bad." He would never admit to a weakness before her. "It wasn't as bad as it looks."

Turning back to face her, he wrapped her in his arms. With a contented purr, she snuggled against him and drifted to sleep.

He must have dozed as well, for he opened his eyes with the realization his desire had returned with renewed force. This had been no part of the information he had gleaned from his studies. He saw Kaith's eyes were open as well and looked a question at her. The smile which lifted the corners of her mouth left no doubt of her willingness to cooperate, nor did the movement of her guiding hand.

He parted her legs and shifted so that his body lay between them in order to facilitate access. The feeling was so different from the first venture, instead of a freely open passage, he felt resistance. With a quick push, he felt something tear as he broke through only to be stopped by her cry of pain.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." He started to withdrawn but was held back by her arms which drew him even closer.

"Don't stop. It's just I was a virgin and ..." She explained, dropping her glance.

"Ah. I am your first?" Bracing himself on his forearms, he looked intently into her eyes. For many reasons, he was glad of that.

"Yes," she murmured into his smooth chest as she spread her thighs wider and, surmounting her discomfort, tipped her pelvis to encompass his length.

They rested a short time, thus linked and savoring the sensation, until he began moving first slowly and then more rapidly. With a rhythm established, they soon found themselves approaching a point of overwhelming urgency, even more intense than during the earlier times. Finally, with a hoarse shout of triumphant release, he plunged as deeply into her as was possible and exploded like a hundred rockets at once, collapsing on her body, panting into her disheveled hair. She joined him in the climactic moment, wrapping her legs around him as tightly as she could as her own passion possessed her.

When it was over, they lay exhausted in one another's embrace, the goal attained. They had achieved adulthood, at least this aspect of it. They now knew the secrets of the bedchamber and, like voyagers who had found the continent they sought, they were content in the finding. Kaith pulled him to her and kissed him without restraint, drawing his tongue into her mouth and relishing the sweetness she found there.

When they fell back on the bedding again, Nooj searched for a gift sufficiently rich for the first woman in his life. He could think of only one thing precious enough to offer her. "The name of the kit is Nepetu," he whispered, his breath warm on her ear.

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